Equivalent exchange
by ArkanianHyde
Summary: I'm really quite just. But I will come to claim what is rightfully mine. However,there are those who resist me. Alchemists tend to fall under this category.


This was supposed to be a submission for The-DA-Ranger Group over at dA for their writing contest, but I failed to read the rules. Hmmm... as is now I have a story, and nothing to do with it. But I can't just get rid of it, now can I? I mean, I spent valuable homework time on this! So I'm sharing this spark of inspiration here at fanfiction. To be fair I _was _planning on posting it both here and over at dA, so there, no insulting intended : )

Well, I introduce my first fma fic that actually surrounds the protagonist! Well, it's not written in his point of view, but rather of Death's point of view concerning our favourite _petit alchemiste_. Yeah, Death. Death is a cool character, and an interesting one if you've read _The Book Thief_. As in the novel, Death narrates on the life of a particular character in the living world that interests him. In the book it was Liesel Meminger. In this piece it's Ed.

So for this I went all _Conqueror of Shamballa._ Since the book is set in Germany in WWII, with Amestris being the alternate reality of that setting, and each with alternate personalities of the characters, which are in essence the same except for environmental and social influences, it's easy to see that Liesel's Death –narrator would be slightly different from Ed's. Leisel's was nice, and empathetic to his souls. Ed's came off to me as a passive-agressive Ryuk. Yeah...

So yeah... you can read or ignore, it's really up to you.

I believe I've said this before at one point or another. I don't pretend my job is an easy one, travelling around the world often several times a day, more so when there is a war. Far from it. Sometimes it's downright tiresome with that old drill sergeant of a boss breathing down my neck, without so much as a nod of acknowledgement for my efforts. Not that I had ever expected any acknowledgement, mind you, but I suppose that where you humans and I are alike. While I don't really mind my position in the background, it's nice to have someone recognise me, without a negative response emanating from them.

Anyway, like I said, my job is not an easy one. It never can be when the weight of life resists me. It's happened before, and I don't doubt it will happen again. It's happened with people of all types, but more so with those you call alchemists.

**A history lesson**

Alchemy began as a means to gain wealth and to resist me. On both accounts, it failed.

I may come of as cruel. But I'm really quite just. I believe I've said that at one point or another. But I _will_ come to claim what is rightfully mine, whether you're ready for my arrival or not. Some are, usually, although my arrival is not always welcomed. But I've accepted it. However, there are others who resist me. Alchemists tend to fall under this category.

I should explain. It is true that alchemists can use a certain amount of material for repairs or to make new products. Theoretically, this should also be true of gaining life.

**An interesting recipe**

To paraphrase what that young alchemist said at a church in Lior, making a human adult should be quite easy with the right ingredients, including  
1. 35 liters of water  
2. 20 kg carbohydrates  
3. 2 liters of ammonia  
4. 1.5 kg of calcium  
5. 800 grams of adenosine  
6. 250 grams of salt  
7. 100 grams of nitrogen  
8. 80 grams of sulfur  
9. 7.5 grams of fluoride  
10. 3 grams of silicon  
11. 20 grams of trace metals and other trace elements.

Unfortunately, there is something missing. A human soul. And that is something I'm not willing to give up. As I've said before, I am quite just, and tolerable to the actions of humans (mainly because you interest me, especially in your strength and weaknesses) but your desire for controlling nature is dangerous. It's something the Boss, if you will, will not allow. That said, it is bothersome to know that some alchemists insist on doing so.

Don't get me wrong. I think very highly of these people. These were actually quite intelligent beings, and despite myself, I found myself wishing they would succeed, even while holding on to the very end they wanted to achieve by their means. Even following their rules of equivalent exchange, it was impossible to allow them to succeed. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. All the ingredients I've listed to be swapped for a human shell, and a human soul needed in exchange for one to live in it. I couldn't just let them get their way, without payment. This set of ground rules were followed, with (let's just say) a fine to be paid should these rules be broken.

But as interesting as these alchemists who try to defy me are, I have to admit there exists a pair that captures my attention. To be more specific, the elder of these two brothers, draws me to them. I realise how dark it sounds to say that Death stalks these boys, but that's far from the case. I first saw them a few years before I carried the soul of their mother away. (If I remember rightly, I thought her hair was a lovely chocolate brown, even then. But lavender suits her I think. But I digress.) I could sense a pair of eyes at my back. It was the elder brother, Edward Elric. It was slightly disconcerting that a child as young as eight could sense my arrival. But he didn't recognise me. Luckily-for him or me? I was never quite sure- my services weren't needed quite yet. Trisha Elric still had a couple of years left in her. Besides, there was unrest in the East, and I would soon have to travel again.

**About Edward Elric's eyes**

They were a honey brown to match his dirty blond hair. And they were older than a child of eight years should have. They were also quite frank. They told me straight away that if I were to take his mother, he would fight me for her.

And fight me he did. But like all wars, there would be casualties and wasted efforts.

I didn't see him for three years, until he was 11, when I had taken his mother from him. He recognised me. Yet those eyes did not flare in anger or because he sensed a threat. Surprisingly, they remained as blank as any other survivor I've had the courage to face. He was grieving. I had returned to the small village for the funeral. Even though I don't take anyone home with me after, I find that I have to make an effort to attend the memorial services of those I'd taken a few days before. It's more respectful for the family I think. After the service I remained with young Edward and little Alphonse at the grave of their mother. Edward looked up, and saw me, as I shifted where I stood. It's scary how perceptive those eyes are. Our eyes met, over his mother's tombstone, and I nodded before I took my leave, but not before he declared his intentions to bring her back.

**Musings about an Alchemist**

I have to admit, I was taken aback by his words, but I have to say that I wasn't surprised. His mother was strong to resist me so long as she did, and his father was smart enough to defy me for so long with his knowledge of alchemy. But Edward was not winning this war. For as in all wars, Death is the only one who gains anything.

He and young Alphonse continued their studies of Alchemy under the tutelage of Izumi Curtis. (She was another alchemist who tried to defy me, in bringing her son back. Even as she committed the crime, the child whimpered in my arms, as if afraid, as if he knew of what would happen to his mother). Under her, the brothers grew more proficient. But their education did not start until they survived a month on a deserted island. I heard their cries for me, even as I carried countless other souls around the world, but it was not their time yet. I ignored them, partly for this reason, partly because I wanted to see how young Edward would fight back.

The last time we met before he enrolled in the military was a difficult one. It should have worked. In truth, the only thing that worked that night was me. The shifting of souls from hand to hand put me in a bad mood. I suppose that's why I did what I did.

**A confession**

I'm a bit of a sore loser.

I think I've said something about an Elric making my job as difficult as he could, dodging me as he did. Edward Elric was not any different. Placing the ingredients in a carefully drawn circle, he and Alphonse added the final touch- blood from their hands, to replace the human soul of their mother. In their defence, it was a good theory. But they were wrong.

Remember what I said about an eye for an eye? Even by their laws of equivalent exchange, a human soul is not theirs to command. Trisha Elric would stay where she was, with me.

**A surprising fact**

Edward was not the one who sensed me that night. It was his brother.

Maybe if he had, he would have discontinued with his plans. Maybe then, his life, and mine, would be easier.

I'm a sore loser. I intended for Trisha to stay where she was, but she nearly escaped me. Nearly. It turns out that something had gone wrong in the transmutation. It was true that Al's soul was taken. It was then that Tricia slipped from me. But the extra ingredients given, meant that the exchange was not balanced. Ed's leg had been transmuted alongside his brother's body and soul. My guess is that was when the balance of the laws got messed up. How else then was Edward Elric allowed the soul of his brother for his arm?

**Musings of Death**

Maybe it's just me, but I like to put more value on human souls than an arm and a leg.

That night, I would have finally gotten the soul of an Elric. I'd almost gotten Alphonse's, but I was cheated out of it, by a stubborn child willing to give up an arm and leg for his family. I was practically given Edward's soul as compensation, but I rejected it. I like the kid. I want to see how he grows up. Besides, it's not his I'm looking for, although his and the one I _do _need are both pretty similar.

Still his actions that night prove to be troublesome. Instead of being a keeper of souls, I'm also a keeper of bodies. Even as I'm here writing this, the warm, sad eyes of Alphonse's gaunt body gaze at me, as if pleading for me to tell him when he could go home. Sorry, kid. It's not up to me. The Boss tells me when to do what I have to do. You have to stay here a bit longer.

Just until I get that final, elusive soul.

Then it'll be an equal exchange.


End file.
